Can anyone smell gas?

I left work early today because I’ve got a cold and the sound of my constant nose blowing was detracting somewhat from the gravity of the assessment tutorials my colleagues were doing in the office. There was also the potential conflict with failing students over who should have first call on the office box of tissues and I generously conceded that their tears must come before my sneezes.

Once home, I made a detour to the now redundant front entrance of our building. I was expecting to see the crack team of builders putting the finishing touches to the beautifully restored steps and the gas company ceremonially cutting the red and white striped hazard tape strung across the front door. Unfortunately the reality was somewhat different. Everything looked pretty much identical to how it had looked when the workmen downed their tools at lunchtime last Friday to go to the pub. The only difference was a massive increase in the number of fizzy drinks bottles and greasy chip wrappers dropped considerately into the excavated hole housing the gas main, by the passing citizens of Queen’s Park .